


A Thousand Words

by Live



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Arguing, Batfamily (DCU), Dysfunctional Family, Family Bonding, Family Drama, Friendship, Gen, I Don't Think Jason Even Knows What He Wants, Jason Todd-centric, Photographs, Theft, Unclear motives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:14:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24097891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Live/pseuds/Live
Summary: When Jason comes across a photograph of himself in the Wayne mansion, he can't believe Bruce would take one of the few happy memories Jason has and turn it into another memorial to guilt himself over (scratch that. He can definitely believe that; this is Bruce we're talking about). So... well, if Jason decides to steal the picture... it's not like it's the first time he stole something from Bruce.
Relationships: Artemis of Bana-Mighdall & Bizarro (DCU) & Jason Todd, Barbara Gordon & Jason Todd, Cassandra Cain & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Roy Harper & Koriand'r & Jason Todd, Stephanie Brown & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Comments: 21
Kudos: 406





	A Thousand Words

The first photograph Jason Todd ever had was when he was a freshly turned thirteen year old. It... It wasn’t how he’d always been told his first photograph would be. 

He was a month old babe when Willis Todd told him he would amount to little more than a criminal. Standing precariously close to their apartment rooftop’s edge, cigarette in one hand, Jason in the other. It was a damning image to anyone looking. No one was looking, it was always better to keep your head down and to yourself in Crime Alley. 

“With a face like that,” Willis informs his child, looking down at his scrunched up face. “The camera will probably break when they take your mug shot.”

Willis’ other hand, the one with the cigarette, comes up to his child’s face. Tries to gently ease the creases his child’s frowning forms. It doesn’t make Jason’s face any more presentable. Some ash falls onto his child. Jason cries. Willis snorts.

“They won’t let you have your mug shot with all that snot running down your face,” Willis pauses, watching Jason’s face gather all kinds of gross baby liquids. He’ll leave that for Catherine to sort out. “Or maybe they will,” a shrug that jars Jason, “s’not like I know the rules behind mug shots. I’ll tell you now though, they’ll make sure you don’t smile. So don’t get it in that head of yours that it’s some kind of vanity thing. Don’t smile... not that you’re gonna learn how to smile growing up here.”

Jason doesn’t stop wailing. 

“Crying probably won’t look good on a mug shot either,” Willis tells him when he doesn’t stop. “Only gonna make the other inmates think you’re weak. They’ll destroy you if they think that, so no smiling, no crying, you got that?”

Jason doesn’t have it, not then. He’s a month old and barely understands more than food, warmth, Mum. But, its advice Jason will continue to be told, continue to hear, so it’s... surprising that it’s unneeded advice. It’s a surety that’s... wrong.

Jason stands among a room of props and different background settings... amused. He’s thirteen (thirteen and four days and he’s been living in the manor for a grand total of sixty seven days). There’s a photographer adjusting a ridiculous amount of lights. Bruce is standing off to the side of the room talking into his phone in a hushed voice. Dick, Jason assumes, is on the other side making some excuse as to why he’s not going to be able to make it. Jason doesn’t care that he’s not there, kind of prefers that he’s not. This is Jason’s first ever picture, he doesn’t need it overshadowed by Dick (so much more photogenic than he is; he’s been told by Dick’s massive, protective fan club).

Jason ambles around the set. There’s different areas that are just large sheets of colour, some white, some green. There are umbrellas set up in certain corners. More importantly there are blinding lights set up all over, those Jason would have stolen. Before. They’d have fetched a pretty price, what with all the wiring, metal and the sheer size of them. Jason, not for be first time, is amused (and little stumped) by the ridiculousness of the rich.

“Jason,” Bruce calls, walking over to him. “Dick called, he won’t be able to make it.”

Jason rolls his eyes, big surprise. “It’s cool, B. I think we’re more than enough for the camera!”

Bruce smiles, his hand falling to Jason’s shoulder to steer him towards their photo shoot. 

And that’s such a novelty. Their photo shoot. Theirs! Here was Jason, son of a criminal and a druggie, getting adopted by the richest man in the city. Getting adopted by Batman. And Bruce- Batman- wanting them to have professional pictures together so he can share their happiness with the media. 

And there is happiness. Jason won’t admit it- he can’t, what if Bruce takes this all away from him? - but it’s true. He’s happy. And he wants this photo shoot to go well, doesn’t want Bruce to have to send bad pictures to the masses. It’ll just cement how bad a choice Bruce’s made if the photos are bad. It’ll prove you can take the street urchin from the street, but you can’t take the street from the urchin. Jason doesn’t want to cause Bruce any problems.

So he stands beside Bruce. Trying to school his features into something vaguely acceptable. But, he’s never really looked at magazines before. He’s never had his photo taken before. He doesn’t know what he’s meant to do!

“Smile,” their photographer says, and he looks like he’d rather be anywhere, but here. Jason forced his lips up. It feels more like a grimace. He’s probably wasting the photographer’s time.

Before the flash goes off, Bruce bumps his hip into Jason enough to dislodge him. Jason doesn’t fall. Barely. 

“Bruce!” Jason yells, as Bruce laughs. 

Jason straightens himself out, turns to glare at his laughing guardian. 

“It isn’t funny!” Jason tells him, as Bruce wipes imaginary tears away. 

“Sorry Jason,” Bruce says, but he doesn’t look sorry. Jason’s about to tell him that, when he notices the flash. The blinding flash. 

The camera had documented their every action and Jason hadn’t noticed. Jason had mucked up, embarrassed Bruce in a way that could be eternally remembered and Jason hadn’t even noticed. (What a Robin he was.)

Arms wrap around his shoulders. Pull him back into Bruce’s strong chest. 

“Smile Jay,” Bruce tells him. 

Jason does. He had always done what Bruce told him to back then. Whether it was because Batman had given him a chance to be good, or because Jason genuinely liked Bruce and the ridiculous life he lived; Jason didn’t know. What he does know is he always trusted Bruce to lead him right, so he did as he was told. He smiled. 

It was a cheek splitting grin. Stretching from one ear to the other. Jason’s eyes glimmering with joy and amusement. Bruce’s lumbering form covers his stiffness, hides his insecurities and protects him from his own nerves. It had been a good picture. 

A picture Jason hadn’t expected to see again. If not from the fact that he had died, then from the fact that Jason was Bruce’s biggest failure. It was Jason’s proudest achievement, wore the term ‘Batman’s failure’ as a badge of honour and failures don’t get pictures framed in ancient, priceless looking fixtures- Jason sneered at the picture- unless of course Bruce wanted to create a shrine for his guilt.

Jason turned around. Left the room. Headed for the manor’s front door.

“Master Jason?” Alfred inquired as he brushed past. Jason ignored him.

It was just like Bruce to take one of Jason’s- one of their- few good memories and immortalise it into the sorry state Jason had found it in, but… Jason thinks Bruce should feel guilty. He should. If Batman would just kill Joker the world would be a better place, if he would just allow someone else to kill the Joker, the world would be a better place, but Bruce refuses! And he should feel bad about that, should feel bad about not getting revenge for Jason, but he didn’t need to mess with Jason’s few good memories to remember that guilt!

Jason slams the manor’s front door behind him. Not an ounce of guilt hits him as he throws a leg over his bike and shoots off, even as Alfred watches him leave, even as Jason doesn’t actually get the information he wanted. He needs to get away from the manor and the depressing reminders of what they had all lost. The only regret Jason has right now is not tearing that monstrosity down. 

Fuck Batman.

——

Jason’s still coming down from the irritation about his first photo, when he comes across the picture of him and Dick. 

He had still needed information for the case he was currently working on, so he had snuck into the pent house. The pent house was one of the highest points across Gotham and a place Dick had claimed as his own. Jason guesses it’s so the baby birds don’t have to watch Dick and Bruce argue, Jason isn’t sure whether he appreciates the fact that less children have to deal with arguing authority figures or if he should resent that they never thought about that when he was Robin. He’s glad for it now though, now when he needs information and the manor is a no go and Dick is over in New York with the other Titans. 

Jason enters without problems. Boots up the laptop in Dick’s office without problems. Logs in without problems. It’s when he’s idly looking around as he downloads some information that problems arise.

Dick has always been the type of person to keep photos over every surface he owns. Jason swears he owns over a hundred flying Grayson posters with how many rooms Dick had plastered them in. But, this room? This room has more than the flying Grayson poster. It has photos with different Titans, different Justice League members, and every family member. Including Jason.

Jason feels his teeth grinding.

Leaving the laptop, trusting it to download everything he needed onto his USB, he stormed over to the picture.

It’s a Polaroid. The entire picture is 3.5 inches by 4.2 inches. The image of Dick’s arm thrown over Jason’s shoulder takes up a perfect square of 3.1 inches. Underneath in black ink is their names. 

It’s framed like all the other pictures in the room. Unlike all the other pictures, it’s not particularly good quality. 

The picture was taken when the two of them had been forced on holiday together. They’d gone to the mountains to snowboard at Alfred’s insistence. Alfie had finally had enough of their bickering and packed their bags for the bonding experience. 

Dick, living up to his namesake, had taunted Jason the entire time he was learning how to snowboard. Jason had grumbled and barely held himself in check the entire weekend until on the last day Dick had actually complimented him for learning so quickly. 

The picture had been taken not too long afterwards. Jason, riding high on the joy of acceptance, grinned the only joyful grin he can remember ever having around Dick. 

Dick hadn’t stuck around long after he had brought Jason back to the manor. Rushing off to re-join his team, rushing off to Space. A month and half later Jason had died. 

It was the only picture that was ever taken of Dick and Jason together. 

Jason grits his teeth.

It really didn’t make sense for Dick to have any sentimental feelings towards Jason. They hadn’t gotten along when Jason was Robin, the evidence was right there in front of them (two years of being family and only one photo to show for it?). They definitely didn’t get along now (shooting their youngest sibling- of which Dick actually got along with- was a sure way to gain Dick’s anger). 

Taking a deep breath, he turns back to the laptop. He had a job to do. He couldn’t let his family’s... eccentricities, get in his way. 

He waits- patiently- for the download to finish. Safely disconnects his USB and turns to his exit. 

He stops.

Looking back over his shoulder at the Polaroid, Jason just doesn’t... doesn’t get it. The framed photo is surrounded by others that Jason knows are Dick’s most cherished people. He knows all the faces around his are people Dick trusts and loves unconditionally. Jason... Jason doesn’t belong there. 

Jason leaves. And if he takes the photo of a former Robin and a former dead Robin with him... well he’s only doing Dickiebird a favour.

——

It doesn’t take long for the missing photo to be noticed. It actually surprises Jason, surprises him all the more when he’s actually confronted for stealing it. 

“If you wanted a picture of us together you only had to ask for one, Little Wing,” Dick grins as he swings down beside Jason on the rooftop.

“I don’t,” Jason narrows his eyes, not that Dick can see it behind the helmet. 

“Then why would you take one of my fondest pictures?” Dick says, his tone teasing in a way that means he’s serious. 

Jason snorts, even though the voice modulator Dick can hear how condescending it comes across.

“I’ll take that to mean you didn’t take it out of a sense of nostalgia?” Dick shakes his head, frustrated.

And Jason kind of wants to wind him up. Make him so frustrated he loses his patience, it’s something he hasn’t seen in a while, not since the bat brat appeared. “Who says I took it?”

“Don’t try to play dumb,” Tim says landing softly beside Dick. “We know you know Babs watches our houses for intruders. How’d the case against the sex offender go, by the way?”

“I have no idea what you’re on about,” Jason shrugs, turning towards the edge, grappling hook out at the ready. “If that’s all?”

“Jason-”

“Names,” Tim interrupted.

“Really T- Red? I’m trying to go for an emotional heart to heart here,” Tim shrugs unrepentant. Dick sighs. “Hood,” and there’s emphasis on the name, “why’d you take the picture. It’s important to me.”

“I don’t see how,” Jason snorts, because he just- he just can’t resist. Every time he thinks he’s past this, past this family, past hurting them, he- he finds something newly distressing, finds something new he can’t tolerate. “The kid in that photo is dead, and why would you even care about the kid- you never cared for him when he was there, why care now?”

“Ja-”

“No,” Jason stops him with an aborted gesture of his hand. “Listen, you Dick, I don’t want to see any of those pictures again. Not the family portraits with Bruce, not the pictures of us getting along for Alfred’s sake and definitely none of the ones of me as Robin. That time is over, you’re better off moving on. I have.”

And Jason jumps off the building, shoots a grappling hook, ignores Dick’s protests, but he doesn’t ignore Tim’s facial expression. It becomes alarmed, pinched; suspicion. Particularly at the mention of pictures as Robin...

Jason needs to investigate.

—

Tim’s apartment is shockingly easy to enter. No trip wires, no alarms, and no explosives to dismantle: all of Jason’s safe houses have that (and more). There’s just one camera strategically placed to be able to catch the entire room. Jason gives it a two fingered salute, he doubts Babs is seeing it given the time of day, but she’ll get to the footage sooner or later.

The worse thing about searching for incriminating pictures in Tim’s apartment is the mess. The teen throws everything on the floor. Jason finds sweat dried clothes, mouldy sandwiches and melted ice cream tubs before he makes any headway. Maybe that’s why the kid doesn’t have any security, why would anyone willingly root through this mess for anything?

He finds USBs filled with case files. USBs filled with unfinished school work. USBs filled with important Wayne Enterprise documents. He finds the Red Robin costume and its secret compartment. He finds no pictures. 

He doesn’t give up.

Going down onto his knees he checks along the floor boards for another secret compartment. This part of the process is grosser than the rest and he debates dealing with Alfred’s guilt trip if he can suggest the Butler have a look at this mess.

He doesn’t find a secret compartment on the floor. He finds something better. A locked box under Tim’s bed.

“Really Replacement?” Jason snorts, because really what member of the super-secret society would hide something under their bed?

He debates taking the entire box with him, but resists (barely). It might not be what he’s looking for and he’d be damned if he gets sucked into some big mess if it isn’t what he’s looking for. Anyway the lock of the box isn’t even a good one, he could jimmy it open with brute force and something sturdy.

He does just that, taking his trusty knife out, the box opens with little trouble. 

Jason’s expression is another matter altogether. Inside there are hun- thousands of pictures. Thousands of pictures of Jason as Robin grinning as he works alongside Bruce-Batman. They’re all ordered chronologically and each are dated. The earliest ones consist of Dick as Robin and Jason- Jason doesn’t want to look at this. Doesn’t get why Tim would even have this. He wants to tear them apart.

He doesn’t.

Meticulously Jason sorts through each photo. Every photo of Jason is pocketed carefully into his jacket. Every photo of Dick is left in the box. 

Every photo Jason pockets feels like a sharp blade through his heart. He doesn’t think long about it. Tries to focus on something else, like-

Why the fuck Tim had these?! It made no sense! Tim would have been a baby brat when he took most of these pictures and if he was the one who took them one of them would have realised! So, it couldn’t be him who took them, but then who did and why does Tim have them now?!

Jason jerks his head around suddenly. Finds a discarded pen and a receipt and scrawls in large letters: you should take better care of your possessions. Sending the camera one more mocking salute, he leaves. 

He has bigger things to deal with, like disposing of past baggage.

——

“You should give Tim his pictures back,” Batgirl says as she lands beside Jason. He isn’t even in costume, hadn’t really planned to be what with Dick and Tim hounding him, was kind of debating phoning Roy or Kori or Artemis and Bizarro to see if they’d have him for a while, but alas here he is with a Batgirl he doesn’t even know on his case.

“Why should I do that?” Jason snorts, tapping some excess embers off his cigarette. “Is he crying over the loss?”

“Yeah,” Batgirl says with a solemn nod, all serious business. “And I have a strict no Tim bullying policy. He has Damien to deal with on the best days, the least you can do is cut him some slack.”

“The Replacement is a big boy,” Jason says as condescendingly as he’s able. “He can learn to live without a few pictures,” Jason pauses a moment, “it’s not even as bad as what the demon brat can do.”

“Only it is,” Batgirl puts her hands on her hips. “I don’t think you realise how much Tim looks up to you, how much he respects you. You’re his Robin. He adores you even after you’ve beat him up... on numeral occasions.”

“It’s nothing special, fighting is how I bond with people nowadays,” Jason says, purposefully avoiding the start of her little speech. Jason wasn’t anyone’s Robin, wasn’t around long enough for anyone to care or notice the difference between him and Dick. And definitely wasn’t a good little Robin that deserved any kind of praise. 

“You should tell him that, it’ll make his day,” Batgirl says, albeit sarcastically, albeit not sarcastic enough to hide the truth of that statement.

“Tim-bird’s got some serious problems if that’ll make his day,” Jason gives her a sceptical look.

“He respects you,” Batgirl repeats as though she can force the words into Jason’s skull (it won’t work even without the helmet Jason has a thick skull). “Just give him his pictures back!”

“If he wants pictures of me so much tell him to make some more, knowing him he probably has the negatives still lying around,” Jason pauses, then frowns. “Actually don’t tell him that, if I discover those pictures reprinted I’ll take them and the negatives. I’ll make sure those photos never see the light of day again.”

Batgirl just stares at him. He shrugs.

“Now, if you excuse me, I’m leaving Gotham for an undisclosed amount of time,” he flicks his cigarettes away. “Don’t miss me.”

Jason heads to his motorbike without looking back, and that’s what seals his fate. If he had looked back he’d have seen Batgirl muttering into her comm with a determination that only ever meant something bad coming from any Batgirl. If he had looked back he’d have known he shouldn’t return back to Gotham ever again. If he had looked back he’d have begged Kori to take him off of Earth. He didn’t look back due to his pride and thus sealed his fate.

Sometimes he hates himself and his decisions. Mostly he hates the Bats and their judgment and their insistence that he’s family. 

——

Returning to the scene of the crime was always a foolhardy decision. It was a decision that felled many a two bit criminal. Jason wasn’t a two bit criminal, but he had never been able to ignore leaving something half done. So, he returns and reassures himself it wasn’t even a crime scene (at least yet). It only slightly helps.

The mansion is silent, as he had planned for it. Alfred is doing his weekly shopping (one would expect living with Batman for so long would make one sceptical to follow routine, but Alfred was a stickler for it). Bruce was off in Space doing God knows what with the Justice League (they were helping the Green Lanterns with a problem with Parallax, Roy had informed him). Dick was distracted with Starfire (and Jason was going to owe her for forever for that; Kori was never going to be completely over Dick). Babs was out of Gotham with her birds for a change (Jason’s snooping left him thinking it was just a fun girl’s night out). Tim was working at Wayne Enterprise (and there may be a glitch purposefully set in the system that would frustrate Tim until it was solved). Damien was at school (and that’s all he really had to say about that). Everyone was busy. 

A flash of light distracted Jason from debating which chair to drag over to reach the photo. 

Jason crouched low as he turned to the source of light and-

And saw the previous Batgirl standing there with a phone held out in front of her. Cassandra Cain. Jason honestly didn’t know that much about her. He knew she was Shiva’s daughter, knew she grew up in the world of assassins, not unlike Damian, and he knew Bruce adored her. He’d never approached her, kind of terrified to look her in the eyes and doubt everything he stood for. She was his polar opposite and he... he didn’t like being reminded of what he had lost. 

“Little brother,” she nods, Jason narrows his eyes, goes to open his mouth and-

Flash.

The phone blinds him for a second, before the room settles back to its natural darkness. His eyes narrow further, probably making him look like he wants to murder someone (he does).

“What was that?” He sneers.

“What was what, little brother?” She asks as another flash goes off.

“That- you know what? Never mind,” he drags the nearest chair towards the mantelpiece. It screeches obnoxiously against the floor: completely purposefully. 

Another flash.

“If you’re trying to amount evidence of me committing crimes, don’t,” Jason snorts. “You lot already have evidence of worse and… I’ll happily admit to this one.”

“I’m not,” Cass says. Another flash, as he settles the chair in place and begins to climb it.

“Then what is with the pictures?” Jason takes a second to look back, genuinely curious. Cass never seemed the type to do pointless things (then again he knows little to nothing about her). 

“Steph’s suggestion,” she says, happily taking another picture. Jason rolls his eyes. 

Turning back to his work, he proceeds to remove the photo. It’s large and weighs a ton, the frame a hefty old thing Jason imagines belongs to Bruce’s parents. Bruce always described them as liking old ornate things even while they celebrated every new piece of technology in the world. 

“Don’t,” Cass says behind him. “Bruce will be sad.”

Jason doesn’t answer yet, carefully manoeuvring the frame to the ground. It’s awkward due to the sheer size and shape of it and Jason wonders for the first time how he’s meant to carry this on his bike.

He turns to Cass.

“When isn’t Bruce,” and he makes quotation marks with his fingers for the next word, “‘sad’?”

“When he looks at that,” she nods to the photo. Jason snorts. He’s never heard a worse lie. 

Another flash goes off and Jason’s had enough ‘sisterly-brotherly’ bonding. He heft’s the photo into his arms and leaves. Cass doesn’t physically stop him, even though Jason’s pretty sure she could (maybe?). She just looks at him with sad puppy eyes as though she could change his mind by looking pitiful. It doesn’t work- it almost does- it doesn’t work.

Jason leaves with one less picture of himself belonging to the Wayne’s. Only to realise he left them with seven more photos via Cass. Having them six strong doesn’t feel right. He grit his teeth.

——

Jason decides not to worry about it. At least he tries not to worry about it. Kori and Roy even try to help him by insisting they all hang out on their island for old times’ sake. Roy and Kori aren’t any better off than him, their Titans and Teen Titans teams falling apart around them and its left them devastated. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have confessed to Donna?” Roy moans. 

“I don’t know how to help the others,” Kori laments, “they’re so young, yet so jaded. They should be happy.” 

“Think I should wipe the Bat-computer?” Jason asks. 

Kori and Roy both look at him for that, and hey the first reaction this weekend that wasn’t depression from the three of them, Jason will take that as a win. Even if it’s disbelief.

“Why would you want to wipe the Bat-computer?” Kori asks.

“They have tons of files and images of me on there, if I wipe it that’ll be hundreds of photos of me wiped for good,” Jason shrugs. They don’t look convinced. “What? It’s a solution.”

“How would you wipe the Bat-computer?” Roy doesn’t answer his question, so Jason takes it as his friends accepting it as a viable solution.

“Getting in is easy-” Jason ignores the “for you” from Roy- “it’s the wiping that’ll be a problem. Tim and Babs are better at computers and protection than me. Hey Roy, why don’t you help, you can probably keep up with their level.”

“No way,” Roy denies instantly. “I’m trying to be good here. The Titans would kick me off the team the instant I tried hacking anything illegally.”

“I could just destroy the Bat-computer?” Kori offers, letting her hand light up green just in case her meaning was lost.

“Thanks Kori, but that’ll be too easy to tie back to me,” Jason slumps forward, his face resting on his fist. “You sure you don’t want to hack the Bat-computer?”

“Jason, me hacking the thing will be just as obvious as Kori destroying it,” Roy rolls his eyes. “The more you fight it the more pictures of you they’ll have.”

“What do you suggest then?” Jason all but whines. “I don’t want them to have any photos of me.”

“Do you mind if we have photos of you?” Roy asks after a moment’s pause. 

Jason blinks. “I guess I don’t mind?” 

Kori gasps. “Yes, we should have a photo taken together, it would be nice to look at when I miss you.”

Within the next moment the three of them are scrambling together to actually fit together in frame. Kori’s arms drape over Jason’s shoulders, a warmth that’s almost searing, but more comforting. Roy’s slumped into Jason’s chest, holding a ridiculous peace sign out with one hand and his other reaching back to hold one of Kori’s hands. There’s no space between their bodies and when Roy sends both him and Kori the photo to their phones Jason can’t help but notice that they all look happy.

“It is a wonderful picture,” Kori floats beside them smiling at her phone. “We should take more.”

“How about some in the ocean?” Roy asks. “Show off both of your supermodel figures.”

Jason looks at the photo and he... he doesn’t mind this. Finds it so much more bearable to the framed pictures Dick and Bruce had (definitely better than the idolising almost stalker-ish photos Tim had). 

“You just want to ogle Kori’s fine form,” Jason says, but doesn’t fight it as he gets dragged along to the shoreline. 

“And yours,” Roy says unrepentant. 

And they spend an evening taking stupid photos and having fun and for one moment it’s all they need.

——

It’s not what he needs at all.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” what Jason really means is he has to stop coming back to Gotham. It never ends well for anyone. 

It’s already going badly if Dick’s lack of quick wit is anything to go by. Dick had landed beside him on the rooftop and just silently stared him down, as though daring him to say he’s done nothing wrong (Jason won’t say it, because he’s probably done something, he’s just not sure what at this moment). 

“What?” Jason huffs after the continued silence, his eyes skirting to the shadows around them. Dick wasn’t alone last time either. 

“You won’t give my photo back?” Dick asks, carefully.

“What photo?” Jason asks in return, it’s petty, but hey no sense in committing himself to one decision or letting Dick know he hasn’t torn the picture to pieces.

“OK, so not getting the photo back,” Dick says amiably- too amiably, Jason tenses. “So, why don’t we take a picture now?”

“You have plenty pictures of me, Cass took a bunch last time I was here,” and there was the Bat-computer, but Jason just wasn’t going to acknowledge that fact again.

“Cass isn’t exactly known for her photography skills,” Dick says it lightly, as he gets his own phone out. Jason eyes it, should he destroy it now? It would be better to get rid of it before Dick starts taking pictures himself. “And I was thinking something more like this?”

Dick turns the screen around and there on his lock screen is the photo Roy had taken. Jason’s face is surprisingly, or maybe not surprisingly, the focus on the screen, Roy and Kori’s face cut out ever so slightly. Jason narrows his eyes.

“How’d you get that? Don’t tell me Roy gave you them?” Jason growls.

Dick’s quick to put his phone away, into the part of his costume that needs a code or- zap- the costume shocks you. Smart. Smart, but annoying.

“He didn’t,” Dick shrugs. “He didn’t even tell me about them, but I overheard him talking to Donna about them,” and how Roy and Donna were talking again after what Roy had been lamenting about Jason didn’t know, “and convinced Donna to get them for me.”

“Delete them,” Jason says. 

“And you’ll take a picture with me?” Dick asks. “Cause it’s a little awkward having to have your ex as a part of your background, because it’s the only picture you have of your little brother.”

“Nope,” Jason pops the p obnoxiously. 

“Really, Little Wing?” Dick says, and it sounds like Dick’s trying to not be angry. It’s the first time Jason’s ever heard him actually trying to keep his cool, he’s used to his ‘brother’ losing it over even the littlest inconvenience. 

“Really, what?” Jason asks, because really his ‘family’ should have understood that he doesn’t want them to have his photos by now.

“You’re clearly fine with having your photo taken,” Dick grits his teeth. “They weren’t forcing you to have your picture taken. What’s different with having your photo with them compared to me?”

“They’re my friends,” Jason shrugs.

“I’m your family!” And the anger and aggression Jason is used to hearing from Dick rears its ugly head. Dick’s chest heaves heavily at the announcement, as though saying those three little words was the equivalent to a marathon. Jason isn’t impressed.

“No, we’re not,” Jason crowds into Dick’s space, usually it amuses him to notice how much taller he is to Dick, but now? Now, it’s just another advantage. “We have never been family.”

“Yes, we are,” Dick growls back, but Jason expects that. Dick was never one to back down even when it would better for everyone if he did.

“How? Legally? You weren’t adopted when I was alive and now I’m officially dead, us being brothers isn’t a legal thing. So, an emotional thing? Don’t make me laugh. Before I died you hated me- actually no scrap that you didn’t hate me, you hated Bruce and I was just another reason to hate him. I wasn’t even allowed the decency of being my own person, just an extension of Bruce. Then I came back. And I had no qualms with murder, beat up one of your actual brothers, shot the other. You have three good reasons there to hate me for me and not as some proxy for Bruce. So emotionally? Emotionally I think we’re definitely falling short on the brother spectrum.”

“You’re my brother, Jason,” Dick says, folds his arms and leans heavily on one hip. A stubbornness Jason could only admire as a child, but is now just irritating. 

“I’m not,” Jason replies, just as stubborn. 

“I might not have been a great big brother to you when you were younger, and you’re right there’s been a lot of hatred in our relationship, but the second Bruce adopted you, you were a part of my life whether you want that or not. You’re my brother, even when you do morally questionable things... like almost killing the Penguin,” Dick argues. 

“I should have just killed him,” Jason says, he wouldn’t usually voice his normal thought process out around the other Bats, because they were annoying about it, but now, with Dick and the others not leaving him alone? He’d be happy to share. “It might remind you of how our relationship is meant to be.”

“I don’t need any reminding,” Dick narrows his eyes. “You’re the one who needs the refresher.”

“I-”

Jason is interrupted by the sound of static over his comm line, a courtesy Oracle’s giving him to let him know she’s hacking his line to speak. Dick has gone just as still, Jason assumes Babs is talking to him as well.

“Where your argument is all kinds of heart wrenching,” Jason doubts that, “could the two of you work together, peacefully, for five minutes to stop a robbery?”

“I can give you more than five minutes,” Dick says, giving Jason a pointed look.

Jason snorts. “I give it two, before you start an argument.”

“Before I-?” 

“Boys,” Babs cuts them off with a chiding tone to make any mother proud.

“Fine,” they grumble, though Dick adds a: “our conversation isn’t over,” because he loves the sound of his voice. 

Jason makes sure that conversation doesn’t continue, because he loves ruining any plans the Bats have for him. 

——

“So, you’re not going to be happy,” Roy informs Jason over the phone (and of course it’s over the phone, Roy’s avoiding his wrath for very obvious reasons). 

“Why’s that?” Jason asks the speaker phone as he just manages to dodge Artemis’ jabbing hands. She’s not holding back today (she rarely ever holds back), but Jason appreciates that: sometimes he needs someone that’s strong enough to vent his anger on without anyone actually getting hurt. 

“Robin’s been breaking into all of your safe houses,” Roy announces not unlike someone admitting they’re guilty of murder.

“Robin’s always breaking into my safe houses,” Jason shrugs even though Roy can’t see it and almost receives a black eye for his troubles. 

“Wait- Jaybird, you’re not angry about this?” Roy questions. 

“I stole his toy,” Jason admits, amused. There’s a flash of light from Bizarro, as he takes a picture, it blinds Jason for a second letting Artemis’ knee drive into his stomach without resistance. Jason hacks. “Ugh- he’s... he’s been searching real hard for it, but if he only looks through my safe houses he’s never gonna find it.”

“I... I thought he was looking for your photos,” Roy sounds shocked. Jason can’t fault him, the idea that the demon brat had toys was amusing, the fact that he actually wanted to keep the Red Hood toy was doubly so. 

“He probably is,” Jason allows, punching forward this time. Artemis blocks it easy, but it feels great to feel his bare knuckles hitting flesh. “Demon brat is capable of multitasking.”

“You don’t sound particularly angry about this,” Roy points out, as though this is surprising. 

“As I said, if he’s only searching my safe houses he’s never gonna find it,” Jason grins. There’s another flash, this time Jason doesn’t let Artemis take advantage of it. “Why are you watching my safe houses anyway, Roy? Surely that involves hacking into security cameras that law abiding Titans aren’t meant to?”

“Yup,” Roy admits breezily, before whatever misplaced guilt he’s feeling flares up. “I’m... I’m just trying to help you out, make sure we’re cool, after Dick got those photos. I wouldn’t have willingly gave them to him you know? Maybe tease him a bit, but I didn’t even get to do that.”

“Its fine Roy,” Jason assures. “And are you sure you didn’t tease him a bit? He was pretty annoyed by their mere existence last I heard.”

Roy snorts. “That’s just natural Dick, he has some weird obsession with being the best brother he can be.”

“See, that’s something I miss,” Jason admits. “Before I died he didn’t have any time for me, since I’ve come back he’s always forcing time for me. Didn’t think I’d miss the constant dismissals, but it was preferable to this.”

“Siblings,” Roy snorts. “Tell me about it.”

“I think you mean family,” Jason snorts. “B and Oliver aren’t any better.”

“True,” Roy sighs. “Anyway, I’ve got to go. You sure we’re cool, Jay?”

“We’re fine,” Jason says. “You really don’t have to watch over my safe houses, but thanks for the extra security.”

“Anytime Jaybird,” and then he’s hung up. Bizarro collects his phone, protecting it from the spar happening before him and Jason and Artemis continue to share blows.

“What is up with you and Dick?” Artemis asks, brow raised. “I thought the two of you had solved your problems when he helped us with that case?”

“It’s... complicated,” Jason admits.

Artemis snorts. “With you? I am unsurprised, little one.”

“I’m hurt,” Jason jokes, pressing a hand to his heart for a moment before sending that same hand forward to punch. Artemis blocks it easily. “I thought you knew I was the least dramatic one in my family?”

“Your entire family is dramatic,” Artemis disagrees. “Though, I thought the whole point of this photo endeavour was to denounce your family? Yet, here you have no problem announcing they’re your family?”

“It’s complicated,” Jason grunts at the impact of Artemis’ next strike.

“Explain.”

Jason sighs. “I... I love them, there’s no denying that. And they love me, it’s why they fight against me so much harder than the normal rouge gallery. They don’t want me killing, they want me back and to pretend like everything’s ok, but it’s not. Everything’s different and the only time they acknowledge that is when I’m fighting beside them. When I have a gun in my hand. Any other time they’re acting like nothing’s different, that we’re all a happy family. It annoys me.”

“What does that have to with your photo quest?” Artemis asks.

“...Nothing?”

“Jason!”

“What?” Jason snaps. “I was angry, it was a snap decision. When they acknowledge reality they can have their stupid photos back!”

“Your anger is only useful when used in a fight,” Artemis says, aiming a punch for Jason’s jaw, he just avoids it, letting it brush past him. “This is not a fight.”

“It is,” Jason argues. 

“It’s not,” Artemis shakes her head, Jason sends a punch forward, only for Artemis to twist under and send Jason flying onto his back.

“It is,” Jason says from the floor.

“You’re stubborn,” Artemis smiles down at Jason. There’s another flash, and if nothing else good has come from this conflict then at least Bizarro’s has his newfound passion of photography.

Jason groans. Artemis nudges him with her foot. There’s another flash.

“Are you done being distracted now?” She asks. “I would actually like to work up a sweat.”

“Fine, fine,” Jason grumbles, “give me a hand?”

Artemis offers him one. He takes it. The two start their spar anew. Bizarro documents it happily from the corner of the room. Time passes pleasantly.

——

“Todd,” is the greeting Jason gets, as he swings down the fire escape into one of his safe houses. “Where did you put father and Grayson’s photos?”

“No care for the replacements?” Jason asks, as he removes his helmet and shakes his head. Sweat flies off from his hair. Damian looks at him in disgust.

“Drake can look for them himself, if he’s able to stop being pathetic for more than one second,” Damian snorts. 

“And Bruce and Dick can’t stop being pathetic and look themselves?” Jason asks, being as frustrating as he’s able while he walks over to put his helmet on the bedside table. 

“Father and Grayson have more important things to do than play your games,” Damian sniffs as hauntingly as he’s able. It’s a habit Jason doesn’t understand how Damian was able to develop, sure Bruce and Talia were well off and impressively powerful, but neither acted like... this. And neither would (do) condone Damian’s attitude. It was a mystery. 

“And you don’t, Demon Brat?” Jason asks, shrugging his jacket off, it falls to the floor with a loud clatter, announcing to the world exactly how many grenades he stuffed in there. “When I was your age I had all manner of school work to complete outside of patrols.”

“Unlike your low IQ, it doesn’t take me nearly so long to complete menial tasks,” Damian huffs, eyeing Jason’s scars as the man throws his shirt off. “Are you really making yourself vulnerable in front of a potential enemy?”

“One. I was the best student in our family, I actually liked school and school work. Did you know Dick actually convinced Superman to finish his homework one time?” Jason grinned at the indignant spluttering. “Two. I don’t really see any potential enemies that could actually hurt me around.” 

There was an angry grunt, followed by a kick to Jason’s ‘exposed’ side. Jason lets the kick connect. He doesn’t move, just grins over his shoulder at Damian.

“What was that demon brat? It’ll take more than a love tap to actually hurt,” Jason snorts and Damian visibly bristles.

“That was not a ‘love tap’, that was a declaration of war,” Damian points up at him. “I will find everything you’ve hidden, even Drake’s photos and you will have to acknowledge that I’m better than you. Prepare to grovel.”

“Whatever you say, Dammie,” Jason grins as Damian rages and turns to leave. “Just a little advice though, you’re not exactly on the wrong path, but maybe spread the search a little further than you’re thinking. Always expect the unexpected.”

Damian gives him one last tut as goodbye before Jason’s left alone.

Jason slowly counts back from a hundred and once he’s sure he’s alone, he groans, his hand falling to his side. That was going to bruise. Jason should know better than to let Damian hit his bare flesh by this point, but he just couldn’t resist goading the kid and messing with him.

With a few more grunts as he bends down to pick up his discarded clothes to place them neatly folded up on his desk, Jason fell to his bed. He should probably worry about Damian finding the photos, the kid was taught how to be a detective after all, but he wasn’t. If anything there was almost a feeling of expectation... satisfaction... maybe it was time for his family to open their eyes a little.

——

“Hood, I’m sending help your way,” Oracles’ voice comes over Jason’s comms without prompt.

“Don’t need it,” Jason denies, firing a shot at a gang member’s knee, making the man collapse into a pile of his own blood. Jason quickly retreats back to cover.

“You do,” Oracle snorts. “You can’t take out an entire gang on your own Hood.”

“I can,” Jason says just to be contradictory, “but I’m not alone. Artemis and Biz are here.”

“They’re five blocks away,” Oracle says and she sounds as frustrated as she possibly can with the voice modulator on.

“Exactly, they’re right here,” Jason ducks further into his cover as the hail of bullets doesn’t cease. “Five blocks is nothing for them to cover.”

“So you’re going to wait until you’ve been shot to accept aide?” Oracle says bitingly. “I’m not going to allow that. Help is on the way.”

“I don’t need it,” Jason insists. “When, and if, I need help I’ll ask for it.”

“No you won’t,” Oracle disagrees.

“Yes I will, I have two very capable teammates I can ask for help, if I need it,” Jason says, struggling to pay the gang members a sufficient amount of attention while arguing.

“Like when you’re surrounded from all sides in a gun fight?” Oracles’ tone seems to almost ache with the unsaid ‘like now’. Jason ignores it.

“I’m just biding my time,” Jason smirks, chipper at the situation until he hears the distinct sound of flesh hitting flesh fill his ears. With a curse he looks around the corner.

Red Robin has his Bo staff out and is using it to fling himself from one enemy to the other. Barely dodging bullets. Another curse and Jason throws himself out in the open, shooting at multiple targets. Lighting himself up as the larger more intimidating enemy. Most of the gang are forced to turn their attention back to Jason, though not enough to help ease Jason’s mind. 

“Biz!” Jason calls, as he takes out as many as he can, avoids as much returned fire as he can and tries to keep an eye on the Replacement. 

Half a second later, there’s no bullets in Jason’s path as Biz stands between him and the gang members. 

“Red Him, need help?” Biz asks. 

“I’m fine,” Jason points over at the Replacement. “Mind covering him for me?”

“OK,” Biz smiles before lumbering over to help the Replacement. 

With a sigh of relief Jason focuses on his own targets. Shots are fired, walls are used as cover and the last enemy Jason was aiming for received an axe to the leg.

“Are you OK?” Artemis asks as she approaches. 

“I’m fine,” Jason reassures. “Did you get the info?”

A hard drive is brought up between them and Jason grins. He goes to reach for it, but Artemis holds it just out of reach.

“Why did you call for help if you’re fine?” Artemis asks sceptically, as she’s known to (Jason should really show exactly how much normal humans are able to take, so Artemis would stop worrying about every little nick he gets).

“Because of him,” Jason directs her attention to Tim as he talks to Bizarro after finishing up his side of this conflict. Bizarro flits around Tim like a panicked pixie.

“Ah, your family,” Artemis acknowledges. 

“Interrupting as always,” Jason agrees.

“You could always say thanks,” Oracle chimes in over the comm.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Jason snorts. “I had everything under control and a plan.”

“From where I was standing you didn’t,” Tim chimes in, standing beside him the instance he’s made his way over. Jason gives him a sceptical side eye, he had beaten Tim black and blue before, yet no hesitance. Ridiculous. 

“And people say you two are the smart ones,” Jason rolls his eyes, even if no one else can see it. It’s the thought that counts.

“Two?” Artemis asks with a brow raised.

“Nice lady from the ear,” Bizarro explains. Oracle laughs pleasantly. Jason rolls his eyes again.

“You’re right Hood, your teammates are very capable.” Jason doesn’t know if she’s saying that because Biz can hear, she’s genuinely impressed by their teamwork or because Biz complimented her. Jason’s not impressed either way.

“I already assured you of that, O,” Jason turns his attention back to Artemis and taps the side of his helmet. “Comm was hacked, I’m dealing with it.”

“You know if you just accepted a frequency I wouldn’t have to hack into yours? It doesn’t even need to connect with the other Bats, just me,” Oracle reasons. 

“Yeah, I‘m not believing it, O,” Jason says. “Not only would you hand it over to Bruce, but Wing will bat his eyelashes and suddenly I’m dealing with Bat chatter all night, no thanks.”

“Just think about it Hood,” Oracle insists. “It can’t hurt to have another pair of eyes watching out for you.”

“It can,” Jason insists just as hard. “And it will.”

“Hacking it is for now,” Oracle says, before a sound not un-similar to a phone disconnecting is heard. Jason rolls his eyes at the dramatics of it all. 

“And what of you, with little self-preservation?” Jason turns his attention to Tim who had been happily conversing with Bizarro (the kid probably had some Kryptonian whispering technique for how happy Biz seems to talk to him). 

“Me? The one with little preservation?” Tim asks, pointing at himself as though that would help his case. “I’m the one with the most preservation in our family.”

“In a family that willingly jump off buildings every night? That title belongs to Alfred,” Jason points out, logically.

“Fair,” Tim nods. “So what was this about a photo Bizarro?”

And Jason can feel his soul leaving his body for a second time. Of course Tim would be smart enough to manipulate something like this, and being probably the best detective in the family Jason wouldn’t put it past him to have arranged for this to happen just like this.

“Yeah! Commemorate photo,” Biz grins, “for a job well done!”

Jason has never had a problem with Bizarro’s simpler mind frame before (no matter what Bizarro had thought when he had the random spike of intelligence). But, right now? Right now it’s that simple mind frame that’s making Biz be manipulated in ways he’s completely unaware of. And where he’s not blaming Biz for that naivety (that’s all on Tim, taking advantage of someone who just helped him), Jason can’t help but wish that Bizarro had a little more smarts for this kind of thing (he doesn’t want Biz getting hurt due to some moron taking advantage of him).

Jason turns to Artemis. 

She was standing next to him, arms folded and leaning on one hip. She easily catches on that he’s begging and raises a brow. It’s not raised for long and with a huff she’s strolling over to Bizarro like she understands Jason’s unspoken plea as though he screamed it to the heavens.

“Jason can take the photo,” she says and Jason’s never been more grateful. She may not understand or get his thing with his family, but she’d help out however she can.

“Red Him doesn’t want in the picture?” Bizarro asks in that heart-breaking way that if Jason was a lesser man would have him bending over backwards to ease Bizarro’s doubts. Jason just gives him a thumbs up. 

“We can have our picture taken later, in commemoration of us platinuming Crash Bandicoot, only one trophy left,” Jason reasons, and all is forgiven until-

“I mean selfies are a thing for a reason,” Tim says all blasé, not even attempting to be subtle. “Everyone can get in on a photo without anyone feeling left out.”

Bizarro turns those massive weepers on him, as though sad for Jason being left out. Jason waves him off.

“Selfies are dreadful quality, we’re making art remember?” Jason says and Bizarro once again concedes.

Before Tim can try deconstructing Jason’s argument again (and Jason’s morbidly curious of how far he’d keep the act up, until Jason either conceded or Biz forced him into the photo out of worry) Artemis’ hands find Tim’s shoulders. Her fingers dig in deep and Jason almost feels sorry for Tim, almost.

“Let’s take this photo already Biz,” Artemis says, guiding Tim to stand ever so slightly in front of her and Biz. “You want to remember the day you made a new friend right?”

“Yeah,” Biz smiles, his large blissful smile.

Quickly removing a glove, Jason aims his phone at the trio. Artemis looks as amused as always, which means not a lot. Don’t get him wrong, Artemis can be a ball of sunshine if the mood strikes her, but she’d rather be vigilant and serious and that’s the expression she aims at the camera. Bizarro looks as happy as a child at any birthday party: ecstatic. Tim... Tim looks more comfortable and happy than he has any right to be. He’s surrounded by Jason; someone who has beat him up in multiple occasions, Artemis; an Amazonian who has already loudly stated where her loyalties lie and Bizarro, a Kryptonian clone that could crush him by accident. Tim made no sense.

Jason shrugs, takes the picture and tries to rid himself of Tim as soon as he’s able. Somehow Tim worms his way into watching Jason and Bizarro finish their game. It’s not entirely unpleasant, but it’s definitely unideal. 

Jason promises himself to never have to spend an entire evening with Tim again.

——

That plan backfired almost immediately. In the form of all hands on deck within the Batfam, which includes you Jason, whether you agree with this fact or not (he doesn’t... kinda). 

It was a dreadful night filled with rubber bullets, photos and endless banter. Jason isn’t sure what was worse. 

“Hood! Look this way!” Batgirl would call one moment, abandoning all pretence of stealth, as she stood victoriously with phone in hand on top of her latest victim, holding her hand up in a victory symbol.

“No,” Jason denies her from the background of her screen as he walked on to the next threat. 

Batgirl pouted and whined, but is quick to zip tie the crooks up and chase after him. 

“How about now?” She’d ask, phone pointedly directed towards Jason and Black Bat fighting alongside each other. 

“Fuck you,” Jason announced.

“Language,” Black Bat chides. 

“Fuck you, please?” Jason says, adding enough confusion into his tone that Batgirl rolls her eyes and Black Bat gives him a warning tap against the back of his helmet. 

“Look! There’s Tim, you’d have years of blackmail material over him if you take a picture with him. His fan boy game is embarrassing,” Batgirl would insist. 

“I already have that blackmail material, I have his years of stalking remember?” Jason snorted, amused despite himself. 

“That’s nothing on this,” Batgirl shrugs. “Trust me, Red Robin has this thing where he-”

“Please leave me out of this,” Tim says.

Batgirl snorts. “You’re already a part of this. You have the most to lose out of this. You’ll be missing a photo out of your idol scrapbook.”

“Scrapbook?”

“As I said please leave me out of this.”

“How about a picture with Nightwing?” Batgirl asks. “Everyone loves Nightwing!”

“Yeah, how about a picture with Nightwing, Little Wing?” Nightwing chirps over the comms, sounding decidedly smug. “It’ll be for old times’ sake.”

“Which of us will be arguing with B, then?” Jason raises a brow (though no one but he himself can tell). 

“I wouldn’t say that’s really changed,” Dick hedges.

“The lack of photos with the two of us in doesn’t need to change either then,” Jason snorts, focusing intently on the scenario at hand. 

“How about a victory photo?” Batgirl whines. “Red says you do with your own team.”

“That would involve us actually being victorious,” Jason snarks back, because of course he does. “You look like you’re running on empty there.”

“College takes a lot out of a person,” she brushes aside, before getting caught off guard long enough to be hit against the stomach. Jason’s quick to help her out, but not before she’s left with what will be a few impressive bruises. One will probably be a black eye. 

“Maybe a rain check on that photo?” She asks. “Got to look my best, after all.”

“That would involve me agreeing to said photo,” Jason says, “you don’t earn sympathy points.”

“Ah, next time then.”

——

Bruce tells them all (but Jason, who wasn’t trying to take stupid photos in the middle of a case) off for not being serious on the job. 

Dick, Tim, Steph and Cass all lost camera phone privileges while on patrol. 

Tim’s distraught glares were a balm on Jason’s weary soul.

——

“Jason,” is the gruff voice that greets him as he opens the door to his safe house one fine day. It’s not quite what he’s expecting, but he’s not surprised.

“Brucie Wayne seen visiting a younger man downtown, this is a scandal just waiting to happen,” Jason informs his previous caretaker, as he leans heavily on his front door, blocking all visuals of the apartment behind (not that it makes a difference, Jason is 99.5% sure Bruce has scoured most of his safe houses from a safe distance already).

“I don’t see the scandal in visiting my son,” Bruce says, and it’s said purposefully to get a reaction from Jason. There’s no way Bruce is stupid enough to not realise all the problems with his point. Then again Jason mentioned a scandal to get a reaction first.

“A dead son?” Jason raises a brow. “Surely that’s a bigger scandal than a boy toy?”

Bruce sighs. “Can I come in Jason?”

Jason thinks for a whole five seconds before kicking himself away from the front entrance of his safe house and back to the couch he had been lounging on. He leaves the door open, Bruce will get a clue being the ‘world’s greatest detective’ and all. 

Jason doesn’t look back as he picks up his discarded crisp packet, but he hears the soft sound of the door shutting. He can’t help the way his shoulders tense. This confrontation had been a long time coming.

Bruce makes his way over and sits next to Jason (which is bull, there’s two perfectly good armchairs he knows Bruce would prefer!). Jason offers the open packet of crisps to Bruce and he accepts one (gotta be a somewhat decent host after all).

“So, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Jason knows, there’s only one thing he’s done ‘wrong’ recently, but Bruce doesn’t need to know that. 

“The photos,” Bruce confirms, “they’re becoming a distraction and danger to patrol-”

“Hey, don’t blame me,” Jason holds his hands up, annoyingly causing flavoured dust to scatter across his couch. “That’s all on you guys, they’re the ones who keep taking pictures of me after I told them to stop.”

“I know,” Bruce agrees, “I’ve told them to stop, but-”

“Can’t get your soldiers in line Bruce?” Jason taunts. “You let the others disobey orders nowadays?”

“Since when have any of you listened to me?” Bruce laughs, honest to God laughs.

Jason wants to jump over the couch to hide (or get the Justice League to do some experiments to verify he’s who he really claims to be). 

“You... you’ve always, all of you, just done your own thing, even when I tell you not to, or when it’s stupidly dangerous. It’s not always the right thing, usually it’s not, but I can understand your reasoning. They’re... they’re usually the simple part in all this,” Bruce looks at Jason and Jason is struck by just how old he looks. “I’ve tried understanding this and I can’t. Help me understand Jay-Lad.”

“What’s there to understand?” Jason says, because he refuses to make this easy for Bruce (and why should he explain himself?). “I don’t want you to have any pictures of me and your lot keep denying me that common courtesy.”

“Where it’s perfectly understandable with the newer ones, those old photos were taken with your consent and-” Bruce pauses, as though he needs to brace himself for whatever lie he’s about to spout. “And they were all we had of you Jay-Lad.”

“Bullshit!” Jason clenches his fists tight, and tries to breathe deeply. Calming thoughts- calming thoughts. “You had an entire glass case with my suit in. You had a grave to mourn at! You don’t need photos to mourn over as well!”

“Is that what you think this is about? Mourning?” Bruce asks and Jason just- he can’t take it. He stands up and starts pacing back and forth.

“Isn’t it?” Jason laughs harshly, then stops himself. He hates that kind of mocking laughter. “Everything you do is about mourning. Everything you own is something to guilt yourself over! Have you ever just owned something just for the joy it brings you?”

“Yes,” Bruce says softly, standing up.

“Yeah? What?” Jason snorts. “Wait, let me guess- Tim’s report card? Or maybe Damien’s birth certificate? Or-”

“The photo you took.”

Jason’s pacing halts.

“Excuse me?”

“The first photo of the two of us,” Bruce reiterates. “You’re right I do mourn your loss, even if you came back. And I do- I do feel guilty, I should have been there and I should have seen what the Joker was planning, but that’s not what that photo was about. Alfred put the photo up after we discovered you were brought back. I’d go and look at it when I was worried for you, or proud of you. It was a reminder you were alive and hopefully happy, that’s- that’s all I can ask for Jay-Lad.”

“Don’t lie,” and the words break without Jason’s permission. “Bruce, don’t lie to me.”

“It’s not a lie Jay-Lad,” and Bruce approaches him slowly with his hands up, as though approaching a cornered animal. It’s probably a smart idea. 

“That’s- that’s not possible,” Jason feels himself shaking, his shoulders tensed and bunched closer to his ears. “There’s no way you’re Bruce.”

And yet he doesn’t fight it when arms wrap around him. He can’t relax in the hold, his entire being trembling, but... but he still leans into the touch. Only a little bit, such a small movement most wouldn’t catch it. Jason knows Bruce does. Bruce always catches the little details.

“All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy and well, Jay-lad. I know it doesn’t always seem that way, but it’s true. It is.”

And for this one fleeting moment: Jason can believe it. He’ll kick himself for it later. Question what he was thinking, but for this millisecond? He’ll believe.

His shoulders relax. His head falls into Bruce’s shoulders. And he fights the tears.

——

“So you said all that just to get me to agree to give the photos back?” Jason glares outside the car’s window. Offended he’d been so easily led.

“No, I meant every word,” Bruce disagrees behind the wheel. “But your brothers deserve their photos back, no matter how much you don’t want them to have them. We don’t take down Dick’s photos of him wearing that blue and yellow monstrosity, so you can deal with a few pictures of you as a teenager.”

“Bruce,” Jason gasps, scandalised. “You’re the kind of parent that likes to torment their kids over their stupid past decisions?”

“You’ve caught me. I deprive no greater joy than watching all of you squirm in embarrassment,” Bruce grins, before taking in their surroundings. “Are you sure we don’t need to take a turn somewhere around here?”

“Oh, you caught me. I was planning to have you drive us over a cliff,” Jason rolls his eyes, shoving his hands into his hoodie’s pockets (to the best of his ability, seatbelt in his way and all). 

“Jason,” Bruce shakes his head, resigned. “It’s just we’re heading h- towards the manor.”

“Yup,” he pops the ‘p’ obnoxiously. 

There’s a lull in the conversation. 

“You’ve hidden them at the manor?” Bruce asks.

“Right under your nose,” Jason agrees, grinning.

“Cass saw you drive off with our first photo,” Bruce grumbles, surprised.

“That she did,” Jason agrees. “What she, and you, didn’t see was Bizarro flying me back in to hide it.”

“Why the manor?” Bruce asks. It’s not where he’d hide it, it’s a clever spot, but... there’s too much he wouldn’t be able to predict or plan for.

“You have to admit it’s a pretty good hiding spot, especially now I’m being forced to give them back,” Jason says. “I won’t have to lug that beast of a picture far to set it back up. And my initial idea seemed a little... too dramatic, even for me.”

“Initial idea?” Bruce asks after a moment’s hesitation.

“Well, originally I was going to bury them at my grave, but... well that’s going a little far even for me,” Jason explains.

“You couldn’t get your friends to agree to it, could you?” 

“I couldn’t get my friends to agree to it,” Jason admits. “Artemis threatened my manhood if I convinced Bizarro to help and I didn’t feel like digging all that dirt up.”

Bruce sighs. Jason represses a snicker. The rest of their journey passes in silence. Surprisingly comfortable silence. It’s not that Jason’s isn’t used to Bruce’s silences, it’s just... Bruce had always been able to weaponise that silence and he had used that weapon on Jason a few times in recent memory. But now... now it was kind of pleasant. It reminded him of long nights of crime fighting; of exhilarated exhaustion that spoke of a job well done. Which made no sense, especially considering he was technically being brought in for thievery. Ah... just like old times then. 

They reach their destination much quicker now that Bruce knows where they’re going, the slow turn of the wheels all due to Bruce worrying Jason would tell him to make a turn while they were just about to pass it. It’s not an unfounded worry, Jason would have done it and had done it. The speed, which Jason thought he’d prefer so he can get back to his safe house quicker, just agitated him. This was the road he used to travel on with Bruce or Alfred, just like this. He hated thinking about it. 

“Where now?” Bruce asks after driving up to the front door, not cutting the engine just yet.

“Inside obviously,” Jason snorts, unbuckling himself and flinging himself from his seat and the car. He stops to stare- admire- the old building. “Something’s never change, eh, Bruce?”

“A lot of it’s actually remodelled,” Bruce denies as he cuts the car and joins Jason. “Cataclysm destroyed a fair amount of it and the caves.”

“Ah, right I heard about that earthquake,” Jason says, giving the structure one last look before heading towards the door. “Was out of it at the time of course, but lucky for us Talia had already found and taken me in.”

“Jason-”

Whatever Bruce was going to say was cut off by the door opening.

“I do believe Master Bruce that the cars are to be parked in the garage, what are- Master Jason?” Alfred stops for a second to observe the man in front of him. “It is good to see you Master Jason, do come in, while Master Bruce goes to re-park the car.”

“Good to see you too, Alfie,” Jason grins, before slyly looking over at Bruce who looks like he wants to argue, but he sighs and heads back to the car.

“I’ll be a second,” Bruce says. “Wait there.”

“Certainly not,” Alfred disagrees once more, ushering Jason further into the house. “We’ll wait for you in the kitchen, Master Bruce.”

The front door is closed on Bruce’s reply.

“It is good to see you Alfie, but I’m not really here for long,” Jason says, with feeling.

“That’s no excuse for Master Bruce’s lack of manners,” Alfred tsks, leading them towards the kitchen. Jason can hear sound coming from there and braces himself for the inevitable.

“Did Bruce- Little Wing! What are you doing here?” Dick exclaims first, because of course he does.

“Names,” Tim mutters into a mug of coffee, looking barely awake even though it’s about 1:30 in the afternoon. 

“It’s only us in the manner,” Dick argues.

“What if Bruce brought back someone last night and none of us knew?” Tim grumbles, cheek becoming one with the table’s surface. 

“He was on patrol with us,” Dick shakes his head. “The only person he could have brought back with him last night was Selena and she knows who we are.”

“And what if he was bringing back someone now?” Tim asks.

“With Jason here?” Dick raises a brow. 

“I mean it wouldn’t be the first time,” Jason says, coming over to the kitchen side to sit on. Alfred shakes his head.

“You shouldn’t speak of Father in such a way,” Damien tuts, giving everyone a look of disapproval that on an adult would surely make them feel reprimanded, but just looks ridiculous on the kid. 

“Oh don’t be that way Dami,” Steph snickers, fumbling in her pockets for something. “Bruce is a dick.”

“Steph,” Cass says reproachfully, while Damian looks five seconds from jumping across the table. Tim looks lively all of a sudden. 

“Alfred!” Dick calls, Jason can only assume in a bid to create some kind of distraction, but, “aren’t you going to tell Jason to sit at the table?” really only adds to the mayhem.

“I’ve long since stopped trying to convince Master Jason that the kitchen side is in fact not a seat,” Alfred says half fond. 

“Yeah, suck it Goldie,” Jason would have given him the bird, but Alfred was there (and sadly some lessons the old butler had taught him had stuck). “And Blondie don’t even think about it.”

“Think about what?” Steph fails to look innocent. 

“Taking a picture,” Jason narrows his eyes on the purple phone. “I was planning on cheering for you when demon brat attacked, but if you even think of taking a photo I’ll be cheering for him.”

“Clearly,” Steph waves the phone about. “I was already thinking of taking the photo, so by default you’re cheering for him either way, right?”

Jason opens his mouth to smart talk back, but- 

Bruce walks in.

“Steph,” he sighs. “We discussed this earlier, no more taking photos of Jason unless he agrees. In return Jason’s giving your photos back.”

“Way to make it sound like a hostage situation,” Jason mutters, before kicking off the side. “Right, let’s get this over and done with.”

The path between the kitchen and his old bedroom is familiar for all Bruce claims the building to have been remodelled. Jason suppresses the urge to be nostalgic, the nostalgia would only be a false sense anyway. The building was new. Not his old home. 

Also he couldn’t afford to be nostalgic, he had an audience after all. Bruce was quick to follow, obviously. Tim, maybe-not-so-surprisingly was second, eager for his fandom evidence to be recovered. Damian was surprisingly third to follow, hot on the heels of his father. Leaving Dick and Steph to follow after. Cass and Alfred stayed behind, making them his favourite family members. 

“They’re in the house?” Damian rants, and if this was a cartoon Jason is sure steam would be rising from the kid’s head as evidence of his anger. “Is the toy you stole from me here as well?”

“Toy?” Jason asks, his lips aching to twitch upwards.

“The Red Hood toy you stole,” Damian glares.

“Ah, that toy,” Jason says with such enthusiasm it can only be an eureka moment. “Nah, that’s not here. Where did I put that thing?”

“You uncultured-”

“Damian. Jason.” Bruce says with some amount of finality. “Stop.”

“Whatever,” Jason shrugs.

“But he-”

“Damian.”

Damian shuts his mouth with a snap. It’s an audible sound, and very loud in the silence. Jason has to stop from laughing. He’s not here for fun (though winding up the brat is definitely always fun). 

“Here we are!” Jason says with a flourish. 

“Your old room,” Dick groans, as though this should have been obvious.

Jason looks back at him as he leans on the door handle. He shrugs. “It’s not like anyone goes in here.”

Opening it they’re met with a lot of dust. Jason imagines Alfred cleans the room maybe once a year, because the dust is bad but not that bad. It’s bad enough that everyone can see the foot prints left by Jason when this all started. 

Jason strolls in confidently.

“Todd,” Damian sneers, following after him. “Where exactly are these pictures?”

“All in good time Demon brat,” Jason turns around to the rest of the family who are sticking by the door. Hovering. “You coming in?”

“Yeah!” Steph pushes through, looking around eagerly. “So this is how you grew up?”

“Yeah, the dust collecting was a hobby,” Jason grins at her.

She gives him a look. “Ha, ha.” Before her eyes are suddenly on their surroundings again. “So where’s the secret bad boy equipment?”

“Bad boy equipment?” Jason raises a brow.

“Yeah, like alcohol or porn, the nasty kind mind you- nothing wrong with the well-produced stuff, or, or some badass looking shades,” she pokes at Jason’s shoulder. “There’s no way you didn’t start early.”

“Sorry to disappoint Blondie, but I was a straight A student.”

“The cigarettes were hidden in the attic,” Bruce says, finally walking into the room. “It’s been a while since I’ve been in here.”

“Tell me about it,” Dick says, following behind.

“You only came into this room once Dickie,” Jason snorts. “And that’s when you mistook it as your bedroom.”

“It was my bedroom first,” Dick disagrees. “I didn’t know this was the room you chose after I left.”

“Whatever you say,” he turns to whisper a ‘senile’ to Steph who can’t help but laugh, before turning to Tim. “You coming in Replacement?”

“Ah, sure,” he walks in awkwardly, trying not to gawp.

“Such a fan boy,” Steph shakes her head.

“Stop getting distracted!” Damian huffs. “Todd, the photos.”

“Fine, fine,” Jason relents, kneeling to one carpet edge and pulling it out from its nailed down position.

Damian tuts. “Vandalism, Todd?”

“Street kid smarts, demon brat,” Jason replies, pulling the carpet far enough to reveal loose floorboards. “There you have it.” No one goes forward to look. Jason sighs and starts removing the floorboards. “Really it’s not booby-trapped or anything.”

“I don’t know, you do like sending us stuff that explodes,” Steph says peering over his shoulder.

“I’ve never sent you anything like that Blondie,” Jason denies.

“Lies,” Steph leans heavily on one hip. “I distinctly remember opening a package from you with explosions in it.”

“That was for me, remember,” Tim comments. “And you make it sound like they were meant to explode once opened.”

“Maybe they were,” Jason grins, handing a container to Tim.

“I asked you to send them to me,” Tim answers confidently, before taking the container from Jason. He’s quick to sit down on the bed (making a cloud of dust fly everywhere) and flip through the photos inside. Jason assumes it’s to make sure they’re all there. 

“You really are pathetic,” Damian comments, looking at Tim’s precious photos.

“I don’t want to hear that from you,” Tim sneers.

“What does that mean?!” Damian squawks.

“Red Hood kiddies’ toy?” Tim taunts. And Jason could add so much to that conversation but he’s busy pulling out a tiny framed Polaroid.

“You should just burn this monstrosity already,” Jason informs Dick, as Dick eagerly takes it from him.

“It’s not a monstrosity,” Dick argues. “It’s my very first picture with one of my siblings.”

“You both look horrible in it,” Steph comments, peering over Dick’s shoulder. “I would have burnt it.”

“Thank you!” Jason throws his arms up in the air. Finally! Someone sees how ridiculously and needlessly sentimental Dick is being!

“Well thank you for not burning it,” and Jason’s pretty sure Dick’s revving up for a hug, so he directs their attention to the last photo hidden under.

“A little help?”

He’s kind of hoping Dick would have stepped up to help so there’s no surprise hugs, and Dick does take a step forward to do so, but it’s Bruce that takes a hold of one corner of the large frame. It’s probably for the best, Bruce and Jason are the strongest strength wise in the room.

Hefting the picture up takes a good ten minutes of manoeuvring the frame in odd ways to make sure it doesn’t get damaged, but somehow they manage. With an entire audience of backseat helpers.

“How did you even get that in there?” Steph asks amused.

“Bizarro is a blessing,” Jason huffs.

“Cute,” Cass says walking into the room. 

“Bizarro and my friendship is cute,” Jason grins at her. 

“True,” she allows before pointing towards the photo hefted between Jason and Bruce. “Photo’s cute.”

And Jason can deal with his first ever photo being called cute, even if it was clearly Bruce’s plans to undermine Jason’s coolness by getting him to giggle for the photo, so he doesn’t say anything to that. Turns to Bruce.

“Need help moving it or am I free to go?” 

“It is cute,” Dick says, which really didn’t mean much: Dick would find a blob fish adorable.

“What happened?” Steph laments, and Jason has at least five quips he can say to that, but that involved prolonging this delightful trip.

“Bruce, really what are we doing with this?” Jason turns to Bruce, half tempted to just drop his side of the frame, but kind of freezes when he sees Bruce’s face.

Bruce is peering down at the photo, with a smile. A smile! Bruce can’t even see the photo properly from this angle, but he’s staring at it with such fondness that can’t be faked... well could be faked, but not by Bruce. Not by Bruce the emotionally challenged.

Jason really wants to let go of his side of the frame.

“Alfred made cookies,” Cass announces. Most of the room turns to her. It’s an announcement that usually has everyone in that room fighting to get to the kitchen first, but... but Jason’s here today. Jason’s here today giving back their photos. Everyone hesitates. “Alfred made cookies,” Cass repeats.

“Alright,” Dick says shaking out of his stupor. He gives one last look back at Jason and the photo, before wrapping his arm around Steph’s shoulder. “I hope Alf made the triple chocolate kind.”

“No way!” Steph argues loudly as they leave the room. “The honey and oat ones!”

Damian tuts and gets up from looking at Tim’s photos. “Todd, I will get my toy back.”

It’s just Jason, Bruce, Cass and Tim left. 

Cass walks over to Tim. 

Tim startles and looks up at her.

“Alfred made cookies,” Cass reiterates.

Tim looks around the room before his eyes widen. “Oh, uh, sure I’ll just-” Tim scrapes together all his photos and their container and heads to the door. He hesitates. Looks back at Jason. “Thank you for giving them back, and making sure they weren’t damaged, they, uh, mean a lot.”

Tim leaves. 

“Do you remember this day?” Bruce asks. And oh- they’re doing feelings.

Jason really wants to drop his side of the frame.

“Kinda hard to forget the first photograph you had taken,” Jason snorts, really wanting to do something with his hands. “Especially with the huge spectacle of it.”

“You were nervous,” Bruce says, not unkindly. 

“Obviously,” Jason rolls his eyes. “Can we put this down already?”

“Yeah,” Bruce agrees. “We can put it out in the hallway for now, I’ll put it up later.”

Jason half wants to argue that they should leave it covered with a white sheet like all those other photos in the attic, but... well, he’s agreed to this- somewhat. Somehow. 

Carrying it between people isn’t necessarily hard, just awkward.

“You just going to watch?” Jason asks Cass.

“Entertaining,” she says and it’s a shock. Jason didn’t know she could joke! “Alfred asked me here.”

“If it’s an invitation for those cookies, I’ll have to decline,” Jason says, even as the words pain him. “I’m out of here as soon as we put this down.”

And put it down is what they do but a second later.

Jason’s eager to leave, even if it means walking all the way back to civilisation.

“Here,” Cass says, holding out a little tin. “Alfred said to give it to you.”

Jason pauses. Holds the tin delicately. Sigh. “Tell him thanks.”

“I’ll give you a lift,” Bruce says.

“I’ll walk.”

“Jason,” Bruce sighs and Jason swears the only reason he doesn’t say anymore is because Cass is in the room. She has a way of making people just... do things. “At least take one of the cars, we’ll pick it back up later.”

Jason looks at Bruce... “Alright,” and heads off.

“Not the Bat mobile!”

“I make no promises!”

——

Jason has made a mistake! He can’t believe he just... gave those photos back! Can’t believe he accepted the tin of cookies from Alfred! He can’t believe he listened to Bruce! He needed to leave town- now. 

There’s a knock at his safe house’s door. Looking up at it, his eyes narrow and his fists clench. It could be Bruce trying to convince him to be family (again!) or it could be the nice cat lady from a few doors up that worries he doesn’t eat enough (which although untrue, Jason will not turn her lasagne away). 

He answers the door.

“Babs...” Jason stares at her. He wasn’t expecting this.

“You know this whole building has really poor infrastructure for the disabled?” Babs questions, her wheelchair slightly too big to fit through the awkward front door.

“I know. It was chosen on purpose so there’d be less awkward family meet and greets,” Jason says. 

Babs grins. “How’s that working out for you?”

“Not too well,” Jason leans against the door frame. “What do you want?”

“You’re going to jump town again aren’t you?” Jason doesn’t say anything. “I thought as much. Here.”

She holds out an A4 white envelope. 

“What’s this?”

“A parting gift,” Babs grins. “You know how to contact me for thanks.”

And she leaves without demanding anything, not even for help out of the building. He closes the door behind him. And toys with the envelope.

The last time he was given something (not even two hours prior) Jason had felt his heart torn apart. Felt tears pool in his eyes unbidden. Yet here he is- he runs his hands along the edges of the cardboard- with another potentially emotionally charged moment.

He opens the envelope up.

Before him is a photo. A large photo, taken at Christmas if the decorations are anything to go by. They’re... His family are all sat in front of the large pine tree Bruce always gets fresh every year. A majority of them are wearing ridiculous Christmas sweaters that Dick must have got them. And there’s pure joy in the upward turn of their lips- even from Bruce.

And Jason feels the tears building up- and stops them. He’s spent too many tears on them. His family is happy and... That’s not all that matters, but it’s kind of nice... 

He shoves the photo roughly in his backpack and leaves. He heads to the rooftop, just for a second, and places a little Red Hood figure there.

He takes a picture. It’s not a particularly pretty picture, the rooftop is covered in moss and the figurine is clearly the cheap happy meal kind of toys, but it’ll do. 

He sends it to Babs with a caption: ‘Send this to Robin'. And leaves Gotham for who knows where or for how long. Gotham never keeps its claws out of its people for long, but he’s fought it off once. He can fight it off again.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this like 3 years ago (you can tell because I mentioned platinuming Crash Bandicoot which is what I was doing at the time XD) and completely forgot about it. Was sorting out out some files and came across it and decided I liked it enough to edit it and release it! Jason's motives are all over the place, but honestly I think it's just because he's an angry boi! He can never make up his mind on how to feel about his family! Hope you enjoyed this Batfam story!!!! They're such an adorable family, even if they're all a little emotionally messed up!!!! Thanks for reading!!!!! 
> 
> See ya when I see ya x


End file.
